


Wreck My Plans (That's My Man)

by JadeSabre83



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Blow Jobs, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeSabre83/pseuds/JadeSabre83
Summary: Thrawn and Che’ri have been gone for a week already, and so far Thalias is managing just fine.Until she isn't.
Relationships: Samakro | Ufsa'mak'ro/Thalias | Mitth'ali'astov, Samakro | Ufsa'mak'ro/Thalias | Mitth'ali'astov/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Wreck My Plans (That's My Man)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done a 5+1 in _ages_ , and the "Thrawn and Che’ri were gone for nearly five weeks, and with each day that passed Thalias felt her soul die a little more." line from Chaos Rising set this up perfectly.
> 
> Un-beta'd, so any mistakes are mine alone.
> 
> Please join me in this tiny Samakro/Thalias/Thrawn canoe.

Thrawn and Che’ri have been gone for a week already, and so far Thalias is managing just fine.

Now, granted, the majority of the first week had been taken up by her Trials, and her subsequent return to the _Springhawk_ . So to be perfectly accurate, Thrawn and Che’ri have _only_ been gone for nearly a week, and Thalias is _definitely_ not managing just fine.

Not even the still lingering adrenaline of passing her Trials helps to soften the blow when she returns to the _Springhawk_ and an empty navigator suite. So she busies herself with tidying up (what little mess Che’ri actually makes), organizing the art supplies and games and books, but when she finds herself starting to tear up she retreats to her room and tries to think of something else.

Like, perhaps, how it may have been better to remain on Csilla until their return.

Then again (aside from the Mitth Estate) what connections does she have to Csilla? It’s not her home. It never felt that way, not even after the Trials.

Not that the _Springhawk_ is her home, either. Mid Captain Samakro is certain to remind her of that. 

Often.

So why she makes her way to the bridge in the middle of the night watch is beyond her. Maybe it’s the appeal of seeing the stars stretch out beyond them through the large viewport. Maybe it’s purely out of habit. Maybe...

“Do you miss it?” 

Samakro’s voice, much softer than she’s used to hearing it, interrupts her thoughts. He’d been busy with a report when she first came to the bridge, and part of her was hoping that her little visit would go unnoticed.

The other part is just grateful for the interaction.

Actually, no. There’s a third part of her that’s tamping down on the growing sense of embarrassment at coming to realize that she’s standing at the navigator’s seat, one hand hovering in mid-air as though she was caught reaching out for it.

(She was.)

Thalias gives herself a quick mental shake of the head before shifting her focus to Samakro’s question, and a loaded one at that. _Do I miss being a sky-walker?_

Her initial, snappish response of _Do I miss being taken away from my birth-family at an age so young I can’t even remember what my parents look like to be forced into situations that no child so young should ever be expected to? Do I miss overload spells and detached caregivers and knowing my life as I knew it was over by the time I was 13?_ dies short on her tongue. Instead, all she can give Samakro is a casual, yet still (incredibly) uncertain shrug of her shoulders.

“I suppose I miss the predictability of it. Of, at least at the time, knowing what path I was on.”

“Says the newest Mitth Trial-Born.” Samakro comes to stand beside her, and though they’ve been this close before there’s something different about it. 

Thalias decides it’s the tone of his voice; it’s still soft, and in bringing up her new status it lacks any true malice or even hidden judgement. It’s almost as if he’s just tried to _joke_ with her.

But that can’t be it. She must be hallucinating due to sleep deprivation. Mid Captain “ _I won’t hesitate to throw you in the brig if you step out of line”_ Samakro doesn’t joke, at least not when it comes to Thalias, and, well, basically everything about her.

Still, there’s no denying the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth when she spares him a glance.

“Though I suppose there was far less political infighting and backstabbing.” 

Now _that_ is definitely a joke, and Thalias can’t hold back the soft snort of a laugh, especially after spotting the slightly sardonic grin that now graces Samakro’s face. 

“You clearly haven’t spent that much time in the company of young girls.” She shares her own grin with him. “We can be quite vicious.”

She can feel his eyes linger on her, as though he’s ready to say something else (and as though he’s studying her rather intently), but for a few moments the two simply stand there in shared silence.

Then, the softest she’s heard his voice yet, “Get some sleep, Caregiver. I’ll alert you the moment I hear anything from Senior Captain Thrawn.”

Surely, she should argue that she isn’t losing sleep over Thrawn’s absence (she is), and surely that’s not Samakro’s hand giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze as she turns to leave.

~~~

Thrawn and Che’ri have been gone for two weeks now, and Thalias is pretty sure she’s starting to lose it (already).

Because rather than making a concerted effort to _avoid_ Samakro, she’s (totally unintentionally) run into him no less than three times since their little late night conversation on the bridge last week. And each time they’ve met, it’s ended not in thinly veiled threats or misguided attempts at insulting each other, but _pleasantly._ As in _Is there anything you need, can I walk you to your quarters?_ pleasantly. 

Apparently the fourth time is really the charm, because rather than (politely) declining his offer, she accepts.

Not only that, she invites him _into_ her quarters.

No sooner has the question left her mouth (and her brain has caught up with what she’s just offered) does _his_ mouth meet hers. It’s not so much a kiss as it’s a clashing of lips, and somehow Samakro is able to maneuver her inside without breaking away. The door closes, and she’s pretty sure she hears him engaging the lock, but then he’s got her up against the wall with her hands pinned above her head and all rational thought flees her head.

Or, more accurately, all rational thought flees her head when his mouth migrates to her neck, his teeth grazing at first before he bites down. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to let her know exactly who’s in charge here, and how this encounter is going to play out.

And based on the rush of heat to her groin (or the rush of wetness to her underwear), Thalias has no complaints.

Not that he’s allowing much time to complain if she had any; with a tug on her wrists he’s got her down on her knees. One hand keeps hers pinned to the wall while the other makes quick work of the fasteners and sealing strip on his trousers, and then he’s shoving fabric out of the way so he can shove his cock in her mouth.

He’s thick enough that it takes a serious amount of focus to keep her mouth open wide enough, but not so thick that she’s already wishing it was over. She chokes when he bottoms out, pulling a low growl from the back of his throat.

“I’ve been wanting to get you on your knees, just like this, since the first moment you walked on my ship.” He says as he starts to fuck her face. “Wanted to put you in your place. See the look on your face when I come in your mouth and you swallow it all like a good girl.”

His grip on her wrists is painful, and with the wall right behind her head there’s nowhere for her to go (and she finds herself not wanting to go anywhere, anyway). Thalias shifts her eyes up, locking them onto Samakro’s.

“And you are going to swallow, aren’t you?” Another growl as his thrusts increase in speed.

It’s difficult to respond with, well, a mouth full of cock, but she manages to make an affirmative sounding noise. Samakro growls once more, then curses as he comes, spilling himself inside of her mouth. And just as promised, she swallows it all, even swiping at the head of his cock with her tongue to clean him up before he helps her up from the floor. Then he’s capturing her lips in a heated kiss, not seeming to mind at all where hers just were. When he breaks it off he (finally) drops her wrists; she’s going to have to be sure to wear sleeves long enough to cover the bruises she can already feel forming (but doesn’t care).

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed.” The way he speaks those words, the commanding tone to them, it can’t be taken as anything other than an order.

There’s a fleeting thought of stopping things here (it’s already too late, she knows), of getting some sort of assurance that this is the one and only time that this is going to happen (even she knows that’s not what she wants), but then he’s fixing her with a single _look_ , and she strips out of her clothes so quickly that she earns a small chuckle from him. She has to swallow when his eyes make a slow path up and down her naked form before she turns around and starts the short walk to the bedroom.

“No.” A sharp, crisp command. “On your knees. Crawl.”

Heat suffuses her cheeks at that, and after a moment (or three) of hesitation, she does as ordered, fully aware of the view he’s getting as she crawls to the bedroom. Just as she’s within two meters of the bed, he’s issuing another command.

“Stop.” Silence, then a shifting of fabric before she feels him pressing her head down to the floor, holding her in place by the back of her neck, while the other hand cups her (soaking wet) cunt. “You’re so wet already.” He slides a finger into her, slowly moving it in and out in shallow, teasing thrusts. “And you’ve been such a good girl so far. I should reward you by letting you come.” Two fingers now, and she lets out the loudest, most pathetic sounding whimper she’s ever heard.

“Please.”

“Oh, I think you can do better than that.” A third finger, and she gasps as he stretches her out while maintaining such a tortuous pace.

“Please, sir. Please let me come.” 

She’s not sure if it’s the begging in general that does it, or if the last minute decision to slip in the honorific tips the balance; either way, it works and he finally starts to (properly) fuck her with his fingers, angling his hand so his thumb can work her clit. It doesn’t take long for her to start feeling the opening crescendo of her orgasm; it starts in the tips of her toes and at the top of her head, and when she peaks she cries out, shaking as she drowns in waves of pleasure.

They never do make it to the bed.

Samakro fucks her right there, kneeling behind her on the floor. His cock stretches her and fills her and hurts in all the good ways, his thrusts coming fast and hard, making her dance across that pleasure/pain line until she’s lightheaded. Then she’s coming, again, this orgasm slamming into her without any warning. That seems to trigger Samakro’s release, and after a few more (almost brutal) thrusts she hears him grunting before she feels him come inside of her.

He doesn’t linger for long, but neither does he simply gather his things and leave. Samakro helps her up, then guides her to the ‘fresher unit with his hand on the small of her back. When she emerges (in a robe), he’s picked up her discarded clothing and set them down in a neat(ish) pile on her bed. There’s an air of uncertainty to him as he stands by the door, a word she never expected to associate with the (often overly arrogant) mid captain. 

So, having no better idea of what to do, she steps up on the balls of her feet so she can kiss him. It’s a tender kiss, possibly too tender for everything they’ve just done, but when she breaks it off she can hear the slight intake of breath and see something flash across his eyes. 

They make their goodbyes, and that night when she sleeps she dreams of pleasuring him on the bridge, in full view of the senior command staff (including Thrawn).

~~~

Thrawn and Che’ri have been gone for three weeks now, and Thalias is (legitimately) doing fine.

And she’s doing fine because what she (and likely Samakro) swore was a one time thing...was not. 

It’s been almost every day since that night now; one of them seeks the other out, clothes get shed, and Thalias gets treated to some of the best sex of her entire life. Though the scenery changes (her quarters, his quarters, a supply closet, and, that one time, an empty cell in the brig), there remains a few constants. Like how Samakro is always in charge (which she doesn’t mind in the least), or how no matter how rough he is in the moment, he’s always soft and tender with her after. 

Tonight they’re in his quarters; it was late in the sleep-cycle when she showed up at his door, but he admitted her without protest (or a lecture) and immediately made her come on his fingers.

Then he made her come again with his mouth.

Now he’s close to making her come a third time as he fucks her, his thrusts deep and hard and hitting _just_ the spot. He’s got her face down on his bed, flat on her stomach with his legs on either side of her hips and her hands pinned down on either side of her head. When she comes she turns her head so she can muffle her cries with the mattress.

Later, when they’re both on the verge of sleep and she should really be going, he utters the words that change (and yet don’t) everything.

“I miss him too.”

It’s easy enough to play dumb, to deny any knowledge of what he’s insinuating and avoid what may be a (very) awkward conversation. But then he’s looking at her, and she can feel her heart ache for him, much in the way her heart ached when she returned to the _Springhawk_ and Thrawn was gone. That same pain is reflected in his eyes, and _oh, okay_ , it all makes sense now.

And, honestly, the first (and any subsequent) emotion she feels is _not_ jealousy. There’s a latent sense of curiosity, but more than anything, she wants to comfort Samakro. So she pulls his head down until he’s resting it on her chest, her fingers idly stroking his hair.

“When?” It’s not the nature of the question itself that’s surprising, but more the fact that he’s asking it in the first place. 

Again, she feels the opposite of what one may feel in this situation; relief. Relief at finally being able to talk about it.

“Once, well...twice, actually. When we were stuck in that shipping container. You?”

“Several times, since he was first transferred here. He’s...”

“Yeah.”

And, really, she ought to leave now. But it feels so good, just laying here with him like, this, and...

...and she knows she must have fallen asleep, because she wakes up to the sensation of something—no, _somebody_ —mouthing their way up her inner thigh. One eye flicks open to confirm that, yes, that is Samakro’s head between her legs, and then she’s lost to sensation when his mouth wraps around her clit. Usually he likes to take his time when he’s eating her out, but this time (this _morning_?) he’s intent on making her come as fast as possible. And when she does, back arching off the bed, mouth open in a silent scream, she makes a mess of things. 

That only serves as encouragement, apparently, because before she’s able to process the loss of his mouth and fingers, his cock is slamming into her.

He’s at least (somewhat) slower to fuck her, making each thrust count (and making her whimper and moan and _beg_ ) and this time when she comes she sees stars.

Somewhere in the fog of her sleep-addled and fuck-drunk mind, she knows they need to talk. But then he’s wrapping his arms around her, spooning her from behind, and she promises herself that they can talk later.

~~~

Thrawn and Che’ri have been gone for four weeks now, and Thalias is slowly (quickly) settling into a state of denial.

Denial of the fact that whatever is happening between her and Samakro is anything but simple or innocent, and denial of the fact of how that may (will) change when Thrawn returns.

Naturally, Samakro is the one who (finally) brings it up.

“These types of relationships are common among the ruling families. In fact, they tend to be the norm and not the exception.” He says it so plainly, so matter of factly, as if he hasn’t just finished pinning her to the bed while fucking her in the ass. 

“I know that.” She doesn’t snap at him, mostly because she’s still too blissed out to do so. “It’s just that Thrawn, well, he never quite struck me as a _relationship_ type of person in general, let alone a triad.”

Samakro offers a non-committal “hmmm”. He’s leaning on one elbow while stroking her back as she lays on her stomach. “He could surprise us.”

“Or we could both cut him off unless he agrees.” Even as it leaves her mouth she realizes how ridiculous (and disastrous) of an idea that is, and can’t help but giggle at the audacity of her own words.

He must agree, because Samakro responds by giving her rear a (not entirely) friendly swat. “Yes, because _that_ would go so well.” 

Thalias suppresses the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

“We could also _talk_ to him. Like adults.” There goes Samakro, being all logical and making actual sense.

“When he gets back...” The implied _if_ is almost audible.

“Hey.” Samakro rolls her over so she’s facing him. “He will come back. Okay?”

Thalias wants to agree, but her mouth is already open to argue, because it’s been _four weeks_ now and she’s so (so) worried about Thrawn and Che’ri. She’s worried for their safety, worried about what their prolonged absence means for her role onboard the _Springhawk_ , worried that the second Thrawn returns she’ll become _just_ a Caregiver again, better seen and not heard unless absolutely necessary.

She’s not aware that she’s crying until she feels the wetness on Samakro’s chest after he’s wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in against him. The tears flow freely then as she clings onto him, and when they finally subside he fucks her until she forgets why she had been so upset in the first place.

~~~

Thrawn and Che’ri were gone for nearly five weeks, and with each day that passed Thalias felt her soul die a little more.

Only for those pieces of her soul to be reborn into something else. Something new, something stronger. Her relationship with Samakro, whatever it may be, solidifies during that fifth and final week so that when Thrawn does finally return it’s (almost) entirely relief she feels, and not a creeping sense of dread.

It takes a few days to track him down so they can have their Very Adult Conversation, and much to her chagrin (and, okay, maybe slight annoyance), Samakro was right. Thrawn is very much amenable to the whole _relationship_ thing. Even a triad. The rest of the conversation rapidly devolves into less talking and more action; hands in places that cause moans and whimpers of need, clothes being shed, and when she comes riding Thrawn’s cock while Samakro takes her in the ass it is, put simply, the most intense orgasm of her entire life. They collapse into a heap of sweaty limbs, eventually shifting about until she’s spooned in between them.

~~~

Thrawn and Che’ri have been back for one week, and Thalias feels a growing sense of contentment with each passing day.

She may not have all the answers, or even know what the next day will bring, but she knows she can do this.

 _They_ can do this.

Together.


End file.
